Free Lethal Engagement (An Unbounded Novella) by Teyla Branton Page A

something,” Patrick’s voice was subdued, respectful. “Even the agents up there were looking back.”
    Let him think it was me, all that power. What gift did Keene have to affect me and Patrick that way? It both scared and exhilarated me. It had to be what Keene had been arguing about with Cort.
    I knew his color now, his coordinates, and it only took the barest effort to find the number that would shift me next to him. Like it did with Erin and Dimitri. I couldn’t find Patrick or the agents, though, perhaps because I hadn’t focused on them when it was happening. But Keene could probably help me find them.
    Suddenly, I laughed inside, careful not to show it on my face. When I was finished being angry at him, we would do a little experimentation. First, I needed more information—but not with Patrick staring at me like he was just the slightest bit afraid.
    Forty-five minutes and much traffic later, even at this early hour, we arrived at his place on S Street. Meaning twenty-seven thousand square feet of house on three quarters of an acre. In Washington DC the cost of the place would be astronomical. But not only was Patrick a businessman in his own right, he also had the backing of all the Renegade cells and the US president.
    The house itself was rather ugly, boxlike, and covered with red brick. However, what little I glimpsed of the gardens, before the car was buried in a detached garage, was enchanting. Inside the spacious entryway of the house, a checkered black and white rock floor met us with unremitting boldness. The round chandelier, bench, and numerous side tables filled with fresh flowers looked like something from a museum.
    Several of the Secret Service agents hurried in front of us across the checkerboard floor to a set of double interior doors on the far side of the entryway, apparently checking for danger. The doors opened onto a wide hallway, where a multicolored rug ran down the middle of the floor, marring the bold of the black and white rock that continued through the space. More museum furniture, light sconces on the walls, large mirrors, and tapestries screamed wealth. Multiple doors connected to the hallway, and stairs led up to other areas of the house.
    “Sorry,” Patrick murmured, staring at a gilt-framed picture of some early political figure. “A little pretentious, I know. We bought it furnished. Come on, I’ll show you to your rooms.” He smiled at me as we started up the stairs after the agents. “You’re in the suite next to me, of course, with Luce—hope you’re okay sharing the suite with her. Your brother, uh, Kenton, is across the hall.” He glanced at the Secret Service agent ahead of us to see if he’d noticed the hesitation, but the large black man didn’t appear to be listening.
    We had a slight delay as the agents swept the house, and the tension was high until we were finally allowed to enter my sitting room. Lucinda Ririe was there waiting for us, wearing a white dress with large blue polka dots and a matching blue sweater. As the door closed, shutting out the agents, she jumped up from a stiff Victorian love seat and threw herself at Patrick. “Oh, sweetie, I was so nervous. I saw you on TV, though, and you were wonderful!” Stars gleamed in her eyes as she indicated a muted TV nestled inside a dark entertainment center.
    He kissed her with much more energy than he’d put into our kiss, and she kissed him back with equal passion. She was nearly as tall as Patrick and large boned. They made a handsome couple. “Luce,” Patrick said, reluctantly drawing away, “I want you to meet Marianne and Kenton.”
    She leaned forward with a slight blush on her cheekbones and shook my hand. “Thank you so much for coming.” Her voice was soft and cultured. “When Patrick told me last night they were sending someone, I was so grateful. I just don’t do crowds well.” She towered a head taller than me, but her grip was weak and boneless. Feminine. Everything in me